Reading Time: 3 minutes

Missing Two Places at the Same Time

It is a little odd being an expat in a new adopted country, in my case Brazil, and then coming back to my home country of the United States.

I look at things as I drive around and I do miss them.

I remember being here. I remember that I have eaten at that restaurant, driven over that road, taken that exit on my way to work, or stopped at that place a hundred times. Sometimes something as simple as a familiar road can bring back a memory I didn’t even realize I still had.

And I miss a lot of it.

But here is the strange part.

I also miss the routine I have settled into while living in Brazil.

I’m a little more than a week into this trip, and I love being with my daughter. I’m staying with my son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren, and sitting around having a conversation or enjoying a meal together has been great.

Those are the moments I came back for.

But I also miss being home in Brazil.

I miss my routine there. I miss my wife and son and the Brazilian side of my family. I miss my morning coffee, the familiar places, the people I see regularly, and the simple rhythm of everyday life that I have built there.

I knew this would happen.

When you travel back to the United States after moving to another country, you quickly remember that life doesn’t stop because you came back.

Everybody has a job.

Everybody has responsibilities.

Everybody has their own routine.

And I never expected that to change just because I was visiting. That was actually one of the things that made moving to Brazil a little easier. I knew that even though I might come back to visit, I couldn’t expect everyone to put their lives on hold for me.

So there are times when I’m just sitting around waiting for the workday to end and everyone to get home.

And that’s okay.

It is just different from what I might have imagined when I was thinking about coming back to visit family.

Then there is the food.

Don’t get me wrong. There is plenty of good food in the United States. But after living in Brazil, I find myself missing some of the simple things that have become part of my everyday life.

There is no pão de queijo.

Pão de Queijo: Why Brazilian Cheese Bread Became My Favorite Snack

There is no coxinha.

The quiet snack but the dining hero

There isn’t that little coffee shop where they already know what I want.

But on the flipside there are pancakes at first watch. Pancakes are not a staple in Brazil, they really do not exist.

There isn’t my regular walk through the city or the familiar places where I have developed a routine.

There isn’t my GoCoffee.

One of My Favorite Spots — GoCoffee Brazil

And those little things matter more than I expected.

I think that is what makes this trip feel so strange.

I’m enjoying being here.

I’m enjoying my family.

I’m enjoying the conversations, the meals, the grandchildren, and all the little moments that come with being back in the United States.

But at the same time, I miss my life in Brazil.

I miss my wife.

I miss my Brazilian family.

I miss my routine.

I miss the food.

I miss the coffee shop.

I miss the feeling of knowing where I’m going and who I’m going to see.

And I don’t think those feelings contradict each other.

Maybe that’s one of the strange things about becoming an expat. At some point, “home” stops being just one place.

America is still home because it holds decades of memories for me. There are roads I can drive down that immediately take me back to another time in my life.

But Brazil has become home too.

It has its own memories now. Its own routines. Its own people. Its own places that I would miss if they disappeared from my life.

So here I am, a little more than a week into a “vacation” that doesn’t really feel like a vacation, enjoying being with the people I came back to see while also missing the life I left behind.

I guess I finally understand something I probably wouldn’t have understood before I moved.

You don’t necessarily stop missing one home when you find another.

Sometimes you just end up missing both.

And the strange part is that I don’t want to give either one up.

Are you living somewhere far from your roots, perhaps as an expat? How does this resonate with you? Do you ever find yourself missing two places at the same time?

Reading Time: 3 minutes